


In Search of Fine Dining

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Food, Gen, so much food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a lot of food Steve's never eaten before; a lot of food he hasn't had since before the war. Why not get caught up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Search of Fine Dining

**Author's Note:**

> All restaurants mentioned are real, and tasty. This takes place just before the events of Captain Amierca: Winter Soldier

DC isn’t much like New York.

Sure, it’s a city, too. But it’s compact. It doesn’t sprawl like New York. They don’t have boroughs, but neighborhoods that consist of a few streets, or a giant fancy traffic circle, which is where Steve is living now.

Dupont Circle. Easy metro access, a Krispy Kream down the street (Tony swears by Kronuts, but Steve likes his donuts old fashioned) and a little bookstore/café a little ways down the road.

It’s called KramerBooks. The bookstore in the front is well-lit and packed. It’s hard for Steve to maneuver in some spots because there are shelves and tables and people everywhere. He helps a particularly short college girl to reach a book on the top shelf of the music section and she flushes and smiles gratefully, thanking him before skittering off.

He finds all sorts of things. Those Harry Potter books Tony won’t stop talking about, a couple of interesting-looking cookbooks, and a couple of versions of old favorites that have covers he’s never seen before.

He stops at the pastry case near the receptionist stand that blocks off café from the shop, and looks in at the pies. They’re decadent-looking, like something you might see in a magazine, and to Steve, it feels like they have every pie under the sun.

One of their specials is a blueberry white chocolate cheesecake, and he’s hard-pressed to think of anything that sounds better right now. So he shoulders his books and makes his way to the hostess stand, and a few minutes later (it’s a Monday night, there’s not much of a line), he’s seated outside of the dining room on their little porch, at one of the two-person tabletops. His bag of books takes up the other end of the small table, and in front of him is a cup of hot coffee, and a slice of that pie.

Everybody thinks Captain America loves apple pie. It’d make sense. It’d be very American.

But it’s not the truth.

Give Steve Rogers a slice of anything with blueberries in it any day of the week.

“Everything okay?” asks a polite voice, and Steve looks up at the thin, grinning waiter.

“Great, thank you very much,” Steve nods.

“Let me know if you’d like anything else.”

Steve grins and nods again, watching the young man head off to check on another table, before scooping up a large forkful of pie and stuffing it in his mouth.

*****

Ted's Bulletin in Barracks Row is homey and crowded and it’s a strange mix of stepping back into his old life, and not.

They make their own Pop Tarts, and Steve makes a mental note to let Thor know about that.

They also have a great grilled cheese and tomato soup combo, which Steve can’t bring himself to pass up.

But the best part of going to Ted’s is the movies. They have a big screen in their dining room that they constantly show movies and shorts on. Sometimes they’re movies he’s never seen. He saw Mary Poppins for the first time here, and Casablanca, which makes him feel a little lightheaded, but he holds on okay, taking a long pull from his Oreo milkshake, which is one of his new favorite things.

His waitress stops by with a brown sugar pop tart that she sets down with a grin. “On the house, from the owner, Captain.”

He looks down at it, feeling the sugar from his shake pumping through him already. Steve grins. “Can I get that to go? And can I get a second for a friend?”

*****

A half hour leisurely walk from his apartment is an always-crowded chili dog joint that Tony swears by. The sign is yellow, the writing red and romantic. It boasts being a neighborhood staple since 1958, and Steve can’t help but remember that he’s forty years older than this place.

He steps inside on a Wednesday night, and things are busy, but not to the point where he won’t be able to find a table in the back or at the counter.

Steve used to get chili dogs when he was a kid, going to Coney Island. He loved them, and used to boast that they were the best. The best chili dogs in the world.

They aren’t.

Ben's are.

The men and women behind the counter laugh heartily as they watch him dig in.

“Somebody get Captain America more napkins!” one of them cries, and the people on either side of him offer up clean ones so he can wipe an embarrassing amount of chili off his face.

He really likes it here. Nobody’s here to see him. They just want their half smokes and milkshakes and chili dogs.

He takes another big bite.

*****

Georgetown is an odd place. Historical and not historical and upscale and not so upscale at the same time. There are some fancy places, but then there’s a Five Guys burger joint smack in the middle of the neighborhood.

Bodega is one of Nat’s go-to places. Small plates, flowing sangria, dark lighting. Steve’s not much for tapas, because he has to eat a lot of them to fill up, and really, the stools at Bodega aren't big enough for him. Clint likes Pizzeria Paradiso, but Steve doesn’t like parsley on its own, let alone on his pizza. Phil’s apparently a big fan of Martin’s and it’s nice, but it’s…It feels too much like his old life, and Steve can’t always deal with that.

For his money, he’ll take the Old Glory Tavern. It’s the type of place the Commandos woulda loved. Sure, they often wound up in places like Martin’s, but messy barbeque and big pitchers of beer, and a loud boisterous atmosphere...it would have been a big hit.

Steve orders the full rack of baby back ribs, and salutes his old friends by eating the whole thing.

*****

Not even super soldier serum can save you from heartburn sometimes.

He borrows some Tums from the nurse next door.

*****

The Star and Shamrock is way out of the way on H street, but it is, by far, one of Steve’ favorite places.

It’s a bizarre mix of a Jewish deli and an Irish pub and it’s great. The food it comforting, the Guinness is on tap, and Bucky would have loved it. It’s the kind of food they used to dream about during the depression.

He can almost hear his voice.

_“Okay. So. An entire sandwich of hot pastrami, corned beef, chicken liver, Swiss cheese, Russian dressing, AND latkes on rye.”_

_“Buck. That’s gonna kill you.”_

_“Probably, but I’ll die happy and full.”_

Steve grins to himself, and takes a bite out of his sandwich. The one that Bucky would have loved, and chews slowly.

“Oh my god,” he mutters with his mouth full.

“Good, huh?” asks his waitress with a grin.

Steve nods and swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s great.” He grins, and knows it’s a little sad.

*****

He eats at home for a week, living on toast and light pasta and chicken salad and fruit, because…

Well, to be honest, he’s gonna get fat if he keeps eating like this, and he can just see the headlines now: **America’s Sentinel of Liberty: Dough Ball.**

So he puts himself on a diet and adjusts his workout, but there’s still so much food he’s never tried so he makes up a schedule. He gets to go out to eat once a week and try something new (or not so new, depending on where he goes).

It works. 

*****

He doesn’t know why he’s been putting Thai food off. It’s been on his list for a while, and Clint keeps telling him he’s gonna love it.

His date for the night is Pepper Potts. Tony is busy on Capitol Hill, and Steve had no plans, and so offered himself up, if Pepper wanted some company.

“Two, please,” Pepper smiles politely, and follows the hostess through the crowds of diners to a small table. He pulls out her chair, and she smiles and sits. Bangkok Joe's is very red, and definitely a neighborhood favorite on K street in Georgetown.

He sits, too and looks around, taking everything in.

“You look well,” Pepper tells him. “I think we were a little worried when you dropped off the grid and then popped back up in DC.”

Steve shrugs. “I just needed a little space,” he says. “But I’m good now. Back here, working for SHIELD…Also, I’m on a diet.”

Pepper gives an incredulous laugh. “What?”

He smiles sheepishly. “I’ve been going a little crazy, trying all these new things, you know? Goin’ to all these restaurants, there’s so much I haven’t experienced and I…may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

“Oh, you have to tell me,” Pepper says, leaning in. “Where did you go?”

“All over,” Steve says. “Irish pubs, comfort food, Ben’s-“

“Don’t tell Tony, he’ll be heartbroken,” Pepper teases. “He loves Ben’s.”

Steve grins. “Now I know why.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been trying to scale it back. It was starting to become a problem.”

“Is this okay?” Pepper asks, trying not to sound too amused.

“Oh, of course,” Steve says. “I’m allowed to eat out once a week, and I’ve been meaning to try Thai.”

“You’re gonna love it,” Pepper grins. “And order whatever you’d like. It’s on Tony.”

“Oh, I couldn’t-“

“Yes, you can,” Pepper tells him. “I am.” She smiles and looks down at the menu. “They have an amazing dumpling bar here.”

“I do like dumplings,” Steve smiles.

Pepper beams. 

*****

“No.”

“What?”

“You’re on a diet?”

“Yep.”

“Rogers. Seriously. You’re like…a god. You don’t need to diet.”

“I was eatin’ out four nights a week, Tony,” Steve tells him. “I needed to cut back, so I cut back. The heartburn alone wasn’t worth it.”

Tony blinks and taps his phone. “JARVIS, make a note that super soldier serum does nothing for food-related heartburn.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Steve says.

“Where haven’t you been?” Tony asks.

“I don’t know, Pepper and I went to a nice Thai place…I’ve been to Ben’s…”

Tony presses his hands to his heart. He can do that now with no arc reactor. “You went without me? How could you?”

“I was hungry.”

“Only a little valid,” Tony waves a hand. “Where haven’t you been?”

“Well, I did Ted’s, Ben’s, Old Glory, the Thai place Pepper likes, the Star and Shamrock, KramerBooks, Bodega, Pizzeria Paradiso…Nat took me to this place called Sticky Rice. I don’t know why they serve tater tots with sushi…or…y’know…sushi with sushi.”

“Not a raw fish fan?” Tony asks, grinning.

“Back in my time, you ate raw fish in an America city, you were eatin’ it from the river, and you were gonna die from it.”

“A valid point. So no sushi.”

“No sushi.”

“I still can’t believe you did Ben’s without me!”

“It was in the paper,” Steve tells him. “Didn’t you see? Somebody got a real good one of my face covered in chili.”

“JARVIS, find that article and save it for later, please, I need it.”

“Already done, Sir.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “We could go back.”

“On a Saturday night?” Tony quirks an eyebrow. “Good luck breathing in that place. Let's hit Good Stuff.”

"Where?" 

"Don't worry about it, you'll love it. It's burgers, it's great." 

"You're not gonna feed me raw fish burgers, are you?" Steve asks worriedly.

"Never," Tony promises. 

And he means it.


End file.
